


Peter & Natasha

by C E Somers (CE_Somers), Laurel_Wolford



Series: Spencer-Hale Pack [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Eliot Spencer, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Beta Peter Hale, CEO Natasha Hale, CLO Peter Hale, F/M, Gen, Good Peter Hale, Lawyer Peter Hale, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Nick Fury has a Goddaughter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 00:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CE_Somers/pseuds/C%20E%20Somers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurel_Wolford/pseuds/Laurel_Wolford
Summary: This work will contain one-shots. They are a semi-retelling of "Voin" from the points of view of Natasha and Peter.





	1. Natasha meets her match

**Author's Note:**

> Scenes from "Voin" from Natasha and Peter's points of view. If there are any specific scenes you'd like to read, please feel free to let me know. I have asked a friend of mine to write some smut scenes for me (since I am terrible at it), so hopefully at least one of the chapters will contain some "naughty bits."
> 
> Enjoy! And remember that comments make me write faster! :-)  
> ~Laurel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set during chapter 10 of Voin.

** Petasha **

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the laptop on which the story is typed.

Please leave comments and kudos: they’re my muse!

Spoilers: None in any of the shows in this mash-up.  This fic contains elements and characters from Teen Wolf, Marvel Cinematic Universe, and Leverage.

Summary: Some of the scenes from _Voin_ as told from Natasha and Peter’s points of view.

Author’s Note: I picture a shorter version of [Willa Holland](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1473267/mediaviewer/rm1931384832) as girl!Stiles.

* * *

Natasha sat in the cockpit of the quinjet as it headed toward the coordinates that Director Fury had forwarded to her phone.  She still had no real idea of where exactly they were going or why.  All that she and Phil had been told was that they were on paid leave to do a favor for the Director, and that they were supposed to meet and advise a small werewolf pack in northern California.  But other than that they had no information.  Natasha thoroughly disliked walking into a situation without all of the information, even more so when it involves a supernatural element.

“Any idea what we’re walking into?” She finally asked her fellow agent.

Phil shook his head.  “No more than you.  This is highly unlike the Director.  SHIELD isn’t supposed to get involved with the supernatural unless it starts to intrude into the human population.”

Natasha nodded, she figured that Phil didn’t have any more information than she did, but she thought she’d ask, just in case.  He was right, SHIELD wasn’t supposed to get involved.  Which led her to question what was different about this situation that led the director to break protocol by sending them.  

In just under an hour the jet was landing in the side yard to a large house in the middle of a woodland.  As she and Phil made their way down the ramp Natasha noticed that there were four people making their way across the yard to meet them.  

As Natasha’s gaze swept across the four she was able to tell a lot about them.  The man on the end of her right, was obviously the Alpha based on how he held himself and the sheer power that he exuded.  The girl next to him moved with the same kind of grace that Natasha herself moved, but not the same kind of power that the wolf next to her carried.  So, she was most likely not a wolf, but she was obviously trained and could possibly be some kind of supernatural being.  The younger man next to her was clearly a wolf, but he didn’t have the power that the other wolf had, so he must be a Beta.  The same with the eldest wolf on the end on her left.  As she approached she noticed that his eyes held pain and the look of someone who’s been broken in both mind and spirit.  She could relate to that.

“Agents Coulson and Romanoff.  Welcome to the Spencer-Hale pack territory and pack house,” the young woman stated as she stepped forward.  Natasha was surprised that she was the speaker, since it was traditionally the Alpha.  “Please allow me the honor of introducing our pack.  Alpha Eliot Spencer,” she motioned to the man that Natasha had correctly assumed was the Alpha, who shook each of the agents’ hands.  “Alpha Derek Hale,” she motioned to the man on her other side, which surprised Natasha both because he didn’t have the bearing of an Alpha, and the fact that there were two Alpha in the pack.  He shook hands with both of the agents.  “And Beta Peter Hale,” she motioned to the man on the far side from her; the man with the broken eyes.  He, too, shook hands with the two agents.  

“And in case Nick forgot his manners, my name is Stiles Stilinski.  I’m Nick’s goddaughter.”  Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise before she could return her facial features to their neutral expression.  But apparently it was enough of a slip that the pack noticed.  Stiles smiled and chuckled lightly.  “I see he may have forgotten to mention that part.”  

“Miss Stilinski,” Agent Coulson stood a little straighter.  “Thank you for greeting us and for allowing us on your territory.” He nodded his head in acknowledgment, first to Eliot and then to Derek, as that was the order in which they were introduced.  “My name is Agent Phil Coulson and with me is Agent Natasha Romanoff.  As we are not here in any official SHIELD capacity, please feel free to use our first names.”  Natasha nodded her head once in agreement with her co-agent.

The two groups stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments before Stiles broke the tension with a clap of her hands and a large grin on her young face.  

“Now that the boring formal stuff is over with, let’s head inside and figure out how to defeat a feral Alpha and an army of hunters.”  Natasha was once again stunned at the girl’s words, not to mention confused.  Even if she couldn’t see his face, she had no doubt that Phil’s mirrored her own.

Eliot shook his head and sighed at the girl’s behavior, then motioned for the two agents to walk ahead of him and follow Stiles into the house.

Goddaughter.  Well that certainly explained why Director Fury had sent them in.  Especially if they’re dealing with a feral Alpha and an army of hunters like the girl said.  Natasha couldn’t imagine being a young human girl in a werewolf pack that was facing something so big.  She owed Nick Fury, so she would do whatever she could to help his goddaughter and her pack.  Even if she would prefer that the girl was nowhere near the supernatural world.

Stiles led the group up the back stairs to the library, where she sat on the far side of the long table.  Peter sat next to her on long side of the table.  Eliot sat next to her at the head of the table and Derek sat at the other end of the table opposite him. Phil sat directly across from Stiles, next to Eliot; and Natasha took the remaining seat between Phil and Derek, directly across from Peter, the wolf who’s eye kept pulling her in.

Once everyone was seated, Eliot spoke. “First, please allow me to apologize for the manner in which my girlfriend dropped that informational bomb on you.”  He chuckled and shook his head slightly, sending an affectionate smirk to her.

“What?”  Stiles looked genuinely confused.

Phil’s lip hinted at a smile, but otherwise remained straight-faced.  “Thank you Alpha Spencer.”

“Eliot, please,” the Alpha insisted.  “We’re not terribly big on formalities here.”

Phil nodded once.  “Eliot, then.  What exactly did Miss Stilinski mean by an army of hunters?”

“Let me guess,” Stiles interrupted.  “Nick didn’t actually tell you why he was sending you here.  Did he?”

“He informed us that we were to meet with, and advise, a small werewolf pack in northern California for a few days.  He said nothing about hunters, feral Alphas, or a goddaughter,” Phil informed her.  Stiles laughed ruefully.

“That sounds like him.  Why tell your people information that they may need when you can compartmentalize?”  She shook her head and her shoulder shook in silent laughter at her godfather.  That got a small smile out of both of her godfather’s agents.

“That sounds like him,” Natasha said, speaking for the first time since the two arrived at the pack’s house.

Eliot slid a thin tablet over to each of them.  “Gerard Argent is in town and looking for payback.”  Natasha and Phil looked through the information on the tablets as Eliot spoke.  The pack then went on to relay all of the information that they had learned about the fire, Laura’s death, and Kate’s death to the agents.

“That brings us to the present,” Eliot continued.  “Gerard brought nearly thirty hunters into town with him for the funeral.  He also brought in a feral Alpha werewolf.  And the cherry on top of everything is that he’s been diagnosed with cancer and given less than six months to live.”

“Meaning he has nothing to lose,” Natasha stated, easily following Eliot’s train of thought.  “A man with nothing to lose is even more dangerous.”  The more she heard about this situation the less she liked it.

“I take it that you now see why I would call my godfather for advice,” Stiles supplied.  “Against any one of these issues we’d probably be okay.  But when they’re all compounded together, we’re out of our depth.”

Phil and Nat nodded that they could definitely understand, as they stared down at their tablets, flipping through the information, lost in thought.

“I’d like to see what each of you can do in hand to hand combat, to know where your skillsets lie,” Phil finally spoke.  He looked directly to Eliot, then briefly to Derek, as he spoke.  The two Alphas stared at each other for a moment, seeming to hold a conversation with their eyes, before they both nodded and rose from the table.

*~*~*

The entire group gathered in the side yard next to the house, the same place that the pack usually trained.  

“I think the ladies ought to spar with each other, while we men plan out the real fighting,” Eliot said in the haughtiest tone he could.  Even though Natasha could tell that he was trying desperately to keep a straight face, it still pushed a multitude of her buttons.  Stiles just rolled her eyes at him, but that didn’t stop Natasha from fuming with anger.

“Why don’t we show them who’s really going to be doing all the heavy lifting when it comes to the fighting,” Stiles suggested to the furious agent.  Natasha didn’t reply verbally.  She just took a few steps away from the men, got in a fighting stance, and locked eyes with Stiles.

Round and round, back and forth, hand and feet would strike and block.  Neither woman was able to gain the upper hand as the fight continued on.  It was approximately twenty minutes in and Natasha couldn’t believe it, she was starting to tire.  She’d never had this much trouble taking down anyone; except once, two years ago.  

The more that Natasha paid attention, the more that Stiles reminded her of Winter Soldier, just before he had shot her through the lower left abdomen.  When a punch from Stiles landed just above the scar from that incident, the sheer amount of power with which she was hit confirmed to her that there was definitely something Winter Soldier-like about the girl.

Natasha had little doubt that unless she pulled some trick out of her sleeve that she was going to be beaten.  So she thought about every move she knew, and finally she found the opening to use one of the closing moves she’d thought of.  When Stiles stepped forward with her right foot, Natasha used that against her.  She stepped on Stiles’ thigh with her left foot and swung her right leg around her neck.  Then used Stiles’ momentum and her own weight falling backwards to flip Stiles forward to land on her back.  Natasha kept her leg wrapped around Stiles neck, cutting of her air supply.  It took less than a minute before Stiles tapped out, which ended the sparring match.

Natasha released her leg from around the teen, but other than that neither woman moved.  Both too exhausted to stand up.  Eliot and Derek walked over to Stiles, while Phil and Peter crouched down next to her to check her over.

Peter picked up her hand and started to drain her pain away.  That felt amazing.  She turned her head to face the other agent.

“We need to have Fury hire some wolves and station them in medical.”  She stated, closing her eyes.  Before Phil could ask why she told him, “This is better than morphine.”  Phil chuckled.

Natasha tensed and snapped her eyes open when she heard Peter growl.  But she noticed that he was glancing back over his shoulder to the other group, so whatever had caused it had nothing to do with her.  Though, she did cock an eyebrow in question when he turned to face her.  He shook his head and smiled, indicating that it wasn’t anything for her to worry about.

“Is Stiles okay?”  Natasha asked the two men crouched next to her.

“She’s fine,” Peter informed her.  “She’s just sore and tired, same as you.”

“Which lead to my question,” Phil interrupted.  “How is she in the same condition as you?  She should be broken and bleeding.  I’ve never seen you leave an opponent in as good as condition as you left her.”  Natasha could read between the lines where he really wanted to know if she’d gone easy on the teen; if so, why, and if not, then how did Stiles manage to keep up with her.  

“I don’t know, Phil,” Natasha admitted.  “I’ve never fought anyone as skilled as her since I left. . .”  Phil nodded that he understood what she was trying to say, and that she hated to talk about her time in the Red Room.  He also understood that she was trying to tell him that she had no idea how the girl was able to keep up with her and almost beat her.  They certainly had a lot to figure out, and also probably found the main reason that Fury had never told anyone about his goddaughter.


	2. Petasha's First Time Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Natasha's first time together. Smut - pure smut!
> 
> This takes place some time between chapters 10 and 18 of Voin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by the amazing C E Somers. She was kind enough to allow me post this with her as the co-author so that it could easily be put in the series. You all are the best readers around, so be sure to give her lots of love so that she'll keep writing for us.

The first time Peter bumped into Natasha, he had the most intense sensation of aggression, power, and dominance.  He had wanted to take her there in front of everyone. It was no surprise that their first sexual encounter was not far removed from that moment. What was a surprise was that he was not the dominant. He was not the aggressor. Natasha had taken control over him.  Natasha had pinned him.  After both of their clothes had been torn to shreds.  He had bite marks on his chest and scratches down his back. Of course they had healed quickly but nevertheless he knew where he stood. Eventually though the need to dominate changed, well it never really changed he thought but he finally realized the intense feeling he felt in that first moment was actually love. Peter knew with every fiber of his being that he loved his луна ( _ Moon _ ) and he knew that he would follow her anywhere.

There was something about Peter that made Natasha feel different. She felt deserving of love. It still felt weird though. The things she had done in her life, she would never had believed she could feel like this. When they were alone, she got butterflies. Butterflies! She was a trained assassin for fuck sake, and he gave her goddamned butterflies. It was in the midst of her own turmoil over Steve Rogers coming back from the dead and finding out that her boss’ goddaughter was also a Super Soldier that he touched her hand. In that instant everything was better. His presence calmed her. 

He raised her hand to his lips and gently brushed a kiss across her palm. She smelled like desire when he touched her. He loved this smell on her. Rolling her hand across his face she rested it on his cheek. They gazed into each other's eyes. With her hand still on his cheek she leaned forward and kissed him. The feel of his lips was intoxicating and she knew she wouldn't stop at a kiss; she wanted all of him. 

She let her hand slide down his neck and onto his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. She continued to slide her hand down until she reached his belt. Peter knew he needed to get her into his bed. In one fell swoop he had her in his arms. 

“солнце,” she whispered the nickname, Sun, that only she was allowed to call him and longing for more of his touch. Sensing her impatience, her wanton lust, he moved slowly. As slow as he could stand. He knew this would take all night. Anticipation of this night made him hard. (He was grateful the full moon was still weeks away so he didn't have to fight his beast's lust also.) Natasha wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his head forcing his face into her breasts. Her sweat was the sweetest thing he had ever smelled. He could stay breathing in her scent all night. Who was he kidding? No way could he stay like this he needed more, he needed to get her to the bedroom, but slowly.

Must. 

Move. 

Slowly. 

The moment he felt his toe touch the bed he lowered her gently onto the bed. Her eyes. Oh, how her eyes could see to very depths of his soul. It was as if she could see his ice blue wolf eyes just as clearly as she could see his cerulean human eyes at the same time. He began to kiss her. Laying next to her they kissed. He parted her lips and she welcomed his tongue into her mouth. While they kissed their hands roamed over each other bodies, shirts were quickly removed and they lay chest to chest.

Determined to kiss every part of her. He kissed her lips, her nose, her forehead. He lingered a kiss just where her jaw and ear meet.  He knew from his exploration of her body that she would moan and grab the bed sheets at this very moment. Natasha was not good at relinquishing control but tonight there was no turning back; he had her in palm of his hand. She held her breath as he kissed down her neck and across her collarbone.  Why was he moving so slowly? She was ready for him and she knew he was ready.  She had felt the length of him pressed against her when he had carried her in here.  And yet she loved the feel of his mouth on her body.  He brought her back into the moment with a quick nip on her nipple. Natasha had never known that she had so many nerve endings. At least not ones that could experience pleasure.  

“Oh Бог,” escaped her lips ( _ God) _ .  Her accent was thickest when he had her on the brink of an orgasm.  He had her right where he wanted her.  

He could feel each hair on her stomach stand on end as he brushed his lips down to her naval and continued lower. He kissed each hip in turn. With each kiss she would rise up to him.  She wanted him.  With no resistance from her, he removed her pants. Now at her feet, he grazed his teeth against the arch of her foot.  She straightened her leg and pointed her toe perfectly and he rested her leg one his shoulder. Peter could feel the sexual tension building in her.  He could just insert himself into her now, but he wanted the pleasure to last. So instead he kissed her knee then inch by inch he kissed his way closer and closer to her center. 

Once he reached that most wonderful spot between her legs he tasted her. She was so sweet and she arched uncontrollably. He moved his tongue in a small circle and she squeezed her thighs around his head. He wrapped his arms around the contour of her ass and rested his hands on her pointed hips. This was leverage, now he could lift her in his mouth and she could only enjoy her vulnerability. His tongue was magic as he flicked and sucked on her clitoris. Her breathing intensified the more he licked, so he continued to circle.

Natasha began to writhe in his hands. “Peter, oh Возьми меня, трахни меня.” ( _ Take me, fuck me. _ ) Her cries were music to his ears. Her heart quickened again, he knew she was close. He could feel the orgasm building, he could smell it. He quickly inserted two fingers inside and with one more audible moan felt her ecstasy rush out. She was so wet and her orgasm only made it better. Licking her off his lips and fingers he let her down. Peter quickly shed his pants and moved himself on top of her. He was ready to take her. Ready to bring her again to the brink. He leaned to kiss her, when her legs whipped around him. He felt a push and she was on top of him. She had bested him; caught him off guard. He thought she was still lost in afterglow, boy was he wrong. 

“My turn mое солнце,” ( _ my Sun _ ) she whispered lowering herself towards his erection. Tonight wasn't only about her, she would pleasure him also. Natasha gripped firmly around his shaft. She took his head into her mouth and swirled it around her lips. And then  almost instantly she took all of him in her mouth.

“Oh Fuck!” Peter cursed. “Oh Моя луна, don't stop!”  ( _ My Moon _ )

She continued with her tongue up and down his shaft, up and around his head. Then again taking all of him in her mouth to the very back of throat. She loved that his stamina allowed her suck his cock as long as she wanted and he could still go for hours. Peter had a pillow over his face by this time, and she chuckled to herself. Deep throating him a few more times, she gave a final lick right under the head and his whole body convulsed. She kissed her way back up his chest, and just so he knew the measure wasn't lost on her; she bit his nipple. He arched and moved the pillow back under his head and kissed her lips. 

“Natasha,” he said gazing into her eyes “I…”

As he tried to speak, she rested one knee on either side of him and let his penis slide inside her. He filled her. She could feel every inch of him inside her. She rocked her hips forward and his hands reflexively grabbed her and pushed her back. She rocked forward, and he would rock her back. This rocking between them was a dance. The most intimate of dances. Her desire began to grow. He closed his eyes and traced his hands up her tiny waist, over her ribs, until his hands cupped her breasts. Natasha continued the rocking on her own, and Peter felt each nipple grow hard under his thumbs. He felt the soft creamy skin of her inner breast, and she rocked a little faster. He felt the sensitive almost ticklish parts of her outer breast and she rocked a little faster still. Peter sat up wrapping his arms behind her and put his mouth on hers. He now had enough control to roll her onto her back. 

Anticipating this, Natasha wrapped her legs around him allowing him to stay inside her. Peter once again in control thrust forward and she gasped. He hit the spot deep inside. Her eyes flew open and gazed into his. 

“I love you” he said finishing his earlier thought. Natasha brought her face to his and kissed him. She felt his love emanating from him. 

“Мое солнце, пожалуйста,” ( _ My sun, please _ ), she almost whined that last part. Her inability to say the words did not shock him, he knew how she felt about him. Besides Peter could feel her lust. It was palpable. His wolf felt it too. His wolf liked it. A lot.

He kissed her back hard this time, there was much more of his wolf behind this kiss and she loved it. She bit his lip, and he growled. As he growled he thrust hard and deep into her. She cried out with yearning. With each lunge from him, her scent grew more intense. Her passion grew with each thrust. His cock was throbbing inside her. This additional sensation made her cry out again and again. He growled again and quickened his pace. Her brain could no longer handle the building of this lust and she screamed his name into the night. He roared in response and came into her. His sudden release was just enough for her to orgasm in return. Peter collapsed onto her.

They lay motionless for several moments. Both regaining their bearings before either of them could move. Peter rolled off of her, and Natasha immediately felt empty where he had just been. She rolled and laid her head on his chest. The sun was just peaking through the curtains. 

 


	3. A Secret From The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just after the end of Warriors.

It took Stiles less than an hour to decide which pack member to speak with first about finding out they had a blood relation that was heretofore unknown.  It took her two days to figure out how to to bring up the subject and where to have the conversation so that they might be able to have some privacy from the rest of the pack.  Not that she wanted to hide the information from the rest of the pack, but she felt like the directly affected person should be told first and then they could tell the rest of the pack when they felt ready.  She finally decided that it would be best to speak with Peter in his office, with Natasha there for support.

On a Friday, in mid-August, Stiles made sure to have Cobi clear Peter’s and Natasha’s schedules for the day, knowing that after their discussion that they would most likely not be able to focus on any VE work.   [ Stiles ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789398951993/) entered Peter’s  [ office ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789399655171/) on the top floor of Voin Enterprises’ main office building with  [ Natasha ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AeoDq-4WfCpUrKm7FTaxcAeCF6HJWKlnOIjB13eRqF_WXD1gnwDS5bo/) following behind her.  Peter’s office was dim, nearly dark, but it made sense that with his werewolf enhanced eyesight he’d prefer to have less bright light when no regular human was due to be in it.   [ Peter ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/671528994406927797/) stood as they entered and motioned for them to take a seat in the couch, where he sat next to his wife, and comfortable chairs.

He hadn’t expected either of them today.  Natasha’s scent was one of curiosity, love, and amusement (Peter knew that was directed toward Stiles since his wife often carried that scent around their niece).  Stiles’ scent, however, had Peter’s back straightening; she rarely nervous. Even when The Pack faced off against the Nogitsune and its forces, she smelt more of adrenaline with a touch of unwanted excitement.  But right now, though she looked calm and composed, her scent was pure nerves. 

“To what do I owe the of the company of my two favorite women?” The Beta asked trying to put the young Soldier at ease.  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, slowly let it out and opened her eyes. Peter saw her steeled resolve in their honeyed depth.

“I’m sorry to talk to you about this at the office, but I figured that you would prefer some privacy from the pack to allow you to process our conversation and then tell them if and when you’re ready to do so.”  Stiles glanced toward Nat then quickly back to Peter. “Do you remember when I took blood samples from everyone a few weeks ago?” They both nodded, their demeanor as serious as hers. “I did that so that I could run every pack members’ DNA against every blood sample that had ever been given, in any database, anywhere in the world.”  They both looked started so she rushed to explain, “I felt responsible for what happened . . .” She didn’t need to mention Cora by name for both of the Hales to know that was what she referenced. “I didn’t want anymore surprises. I wanted to be proactive instead of reactive, like we were.”

Peter and Natasha shared a look with each other that held an entire conversation that Stiles could’ve probably deciphered if she’d tried, but she felt it best not to.  When they both turned back to her it was Natasha that voiced the question.

“What exactly were you searching for?”  Stiles watched as Peter reached his hand over to his wife, who immediately held it in both of hers.  The younger woman took another deep breath before she answered.

“Any biological relations that we weren’t already aware of.”  The silence from the couple on the couch was deafening, their backs ramrod straight.  No one spoke for several heartbeats. Again, it was Natasha, pulling on her lifetime of training, that was able to ask what the duo felt was the punchline to this entire visit.

“Since you’re here and we’re having this conversation, would I be correct in assuming that you found a close blood relative of one of us?”  The spy’s eyes bored into the caramel eyes of the girl that had become the niece of her heart, not certain what she wanted the answer to be, but knowing that it was going to change her world either way.

Stiles turned her eyes to meet Peter’s, blue eyes widening as she did so.  “I found a match for Peter.” Both spouses harshly sucked in a breath. “A son,” Stiles clarified for them.  

Peter felt gutted.  He couldn’t breathe.  His mind had frozen in shock, everything just seemed to stop.

“Мое солнце,” Natasha whispered as she scooted closer to her husband ( _ My sun _ ).

“How?”  He finally managed to utter that one question, but it covered so much of what he wanted to know.

“His mother was married and already had one child when he was born,” Stiles elaborated as best she could.  “He’s a human. He was six when the fire happened, he’s sixteen now.”

“How did I not know about him?”  Peter sounded broken. Stiles quickly moved from the chair to sit on the table in front of Peter.  She took his left hand in both of hers, just as Natasha still held a vice-grip on his right.

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted.  “I can’t imagine that she wouldn’t have told you.  I know that you would’ve wanted to be in his life. Which leads me to think that maybe Talia took the knowledge from you.”  She immediately ducked her head in regret, but she could think of no other reason that Peter wouldn’t have already known about his son.

Peter’s eyes opened wide at the accusation, but they shut just as rapidly as he searched through his memories.  He searched back between sixteen and seventeen years, and . . . nothing. Now that he was looking for it, the gaping hole in his memories was glaringly obvious.

“I’m missing a large chunk of memories from around that time,” Peter admitted softly.  “Loki was in my head to help me regain my sanity. Why did he not fix it then?”

“My guess would be that he didn’t see it because he didn’t know to look for it,” Stiles stated.  “He went in to fix the damage that the fire had caused; your missing memories are between four and five years before that.  I have no doubt that if he’d noticed the missing piece he would’ve fixed it, or at the very least talked to you about it.” 

Peter nodded his head in agreement.  “You’re right.” He then raised his head and met her eyes.  “So what do we do now?”

“Would you allow Eliot to go in and try to recover your missing memories?” She queried.  “I’m afraid that whatever took place between you and Talia wasn’t pretty, and I don’t want Derek to see his mother like that.”

Peter nodded again.  “Yes, I think you’re right.”  He suddenly seemed hesitant. “Do you think Eliot would have time right now?”

Stiles offered her uncle a soft and reassuring smile.  “Let’s find out. Cobi, please contact Eliot and play it through the room’s speakers.”

“Of course, Miss,” the CBI responded.  It took mere seconds to hear the happy voice of their Alpha come through the speakers.

“Hey, Little One,” Eliot greeted his wife.  “Cobi said you needed to talk to me?”

“Do you have time to come over to the VE offices?” 

“Sure, when?”

“Could you come over right now?”  The lilt in her voice letting him know that something was going on.

“I’m on my way,” he responded.  The three could hear him moving around, probably leaving the office of the restaurant.

“We’re in Peter’s office.  Just come in when you get here.”

“Alright.  Be right there.”  The communication disconnected.  Stiles and Nat continued to offer their silent support to an equally mute Peter.  They remained that way until they heard the office door open and Eliot entered, softly closing the door behind him.

He took in the three people before him and knew why Stiles had asked him to come.  She had confided in him the day before that there may be the possibility that Peter didn’t know about his son because the knowledge had been taken from him; and if it had, it was most likely done by his Alpha sister.  Eliot made his way to the trio and sat in the chair that Stiles had recently vacated.

“What do you need?” Eliot’s voice was soft and reassuring, which helped ease some of the weight that rested on Peter’s shoulders.  He knew that his Alpha was here now and would fix things.

“I have missing memories,” the Beta informed his Alpha.  “Please try to get them back for me,” he pleaded. Eliot grasped Peter’s shoulder in support for just a moment, and then situated himself on the arm of the couch next to the worried man.

Natasha and Stiles watched Peter’s eyes got incredibly large as Eliot forced his claws into Peter’s spinal column.  They watched the copious amount of pain he was in steal across his face, but his silence vibrated throughout the room.

Peter fought through the excruciating pain as he watched his memories fly past as if he were seeing through a  [ View-Master ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789399681833/) that he had played with as a child.  One scene from a memory, then darkness, then another scene from another memory slightly farther in his past.  Again and again until the darkness came and nothing followed. Peter knew then that Eliot had found the missing memory chunk.

What no one had ever warned Peter about was just how much having you memories messed with hurt.  He had thought the the pain of searching for the missing piece was excruciating, but it turned out that they hadn’t even gotten to the  _ really _ painful part yet.  Peter tried to compare the pain he was currently experiencing to that of burning alive with his pack, but that was all physical pain.  This, now, was physical and mental. He thought that maybe losing his memories felt like having a limb amputated, but retrieving buried memories?

That was having the previously amputated limb sliced and shredded back open.  The sutures holding down the memory torn asunder and having the original memory stitched back into place.  But it wasn’t just the releasing of the block. Peter had an image flash through his head, which he figured was actually from Eliot, of Bucky getting his prosthetic attached the first time.  The scientists had to keep him fully awake as they touched eached bared nerve so that they could discover what that particular nerve controlled and relayed. Peter thought that having his memory ‘restitched’ into place felt much like that. 

Finally Eliot removed his claws from the back of Peter’s neck.  ‘I now have a much more humble respect for Bucky that I ever thought possible,’ Peter thought to himself.

“I know what you mean,” Eliot replied.  Peter’s eyes jumped to meet his Alpha’s.  Eliot offered a reassuring, though slight, smile.  Peter’s reaction must have been evident on his face, because Eliot continued, “Yeah, you said that outloud.”

Peter lets out a heavy sigh.  He feels his wife squeeze his hand again as he closes his eyes and sorts through the newly revealed memories.  He remembers.

He remembers meeting Carrie.  She was a pretty blonde, tall and lanky.  

He remembers her telling him that she was married and had a son.  He hadn’t cared; he was too full of himself to think about any possible consequences.

He remembers Carrie coming to him and telling him that she was pregnant; that her husband had a vasectomy just after her son was born because he hadn’t wanted any more kids.

He remembers telling Talia that he had knocked up his married girlfriend.  They fought. The Alpha won. 

He remembers the feeling of having his memories blocked.  He been right; it did feel like having a limb amputated, nerves deadened so that they didn’t hurt anymore. 

Peter finally opened his eyes and turned to face his concerned wife.  “I remember now. She was married and already had a son. I was too arrogant to care about anything but my own wants and desires.  Talia took them from me to try to keep the child safe, since he was going to be born human.” Peter ducked his head as the weight of everything began to settle on his shoulders.  “In a way, she did protect him. If he’d been with me, he would’ve been in the house when it burned. But she still took him from me.”

A lone, silent tear escaped from the former assassin's left eye.  She removed her hands from his and pulled him to her by his shoulders.  He went willingly, to emotionally battered to put up any resistance. She wrapped her arms around him and allowed him a safe place to cry.  Natasha barely noticed that Stiles slipped into Eliot’s lap, where he had returned to the chair after he’d finished working in Peter.

For several long minutes, the only sound was the breathing of the occupants and the tears from Peter’s broken heart as they leaked out through his eyes.  Eventually, her husband’s emotional expulsion calmed down to a few sniffles. He returned to a seated position, though much closer than before. Through a look she asked him if he was ready to continue.  Once he nodded his head, Natasha turned her head to face Stiles.

“What is the boy’s name?”

Stiles squared her shoulders, as though preparing for an attack, which Natasha found extremely unsettling.  Though with Stiles’ two words, she immediately understood the young woman’s reasoning in the action.

“Isaac Lahey.”


End file.
